An Indecent Obsession. Mudrooroo
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‘O.K,’ I replied, though I was enjoying myself. I pressed the buzzer and a man came and paid me off. It was then that I told her that I had forgotten to get a room, but doubtless we would find somewhere along the highway. She made a face at this, but said nothing.
The sun was sinking when we got out of the hotel. Time passed inside that place at a quicker rate than outside. Now, as we were both hungry, we drove to her fish shop and ordered a feed of fish and chips. There was a park opposite and we dodged traffic and went there, sat at a picnic table and devoured our food. Both the fish and the chips were as she had said, ‘excellent’. By the time, I had rolled up the paper and tossed it at the bin, getting it in first shot, the daylight was gone. Now, off to find our love nest for the night. I was feeling in good spirits after our tucker and having got my money back from the pokies. As we walked to our car, she took my arm casually as if we had been together for years. I responded by slipping an arm about her and she reciprocated. We moved as a couple then separated to get into the vehicle.
We united in the car in a kiss. Her lips were dry and tight, slightly salty and fishy from our meal. I enjoyed them, but when I separated, started the engine and pulled out onto the highway and drove along, I couldn’t help making the comparison with Elaine. Her full lips were always moist and kissing her was a little like entering her vagina. There was lushness there and she returned kiss for kiss, sucking my tongue deep within her mouth. Darlene on the other hand, seemed an amateur at the kissing game. Of course, I inserted my tongue into her mouth, but she never sucked up my tongue or did she push in her own, which I had noticed was long and pointed. This time when I had done it, my tongue had felt uncomfortable there as if it was an intruder. Instead of repelling me, this urged me on to elicit a response. One that wasn’t forthcoming and this was the usual routine as I soon found out. What I received in return was a timid brushing that felt like the kiss of a girl rather than a mature woman. Still, there was a sense of violation about kissing her and often that weak little return kiss was more of a turn on than my wife’s full mouthed response.
It was one of those times on the Gold Coast when it appeared that everyone had had the same idea of heading there for the weekend. This was excluding the scores of tour groups and individual travelers. They filled the motels and hotels. I was going for the middle price range and went right down to Surfers to where the loathsome Pink Poodle sat in tacky Gold Coast glitz. I would try that as a last resort, though it was popular, but it too had a no accommodation sign flashing. I reversed and drove back. At last I saw a red vacancy sign. I swung into the lot and stopped in front of the office.
The motel was called The Red Dragon and had a neon sign of this mythical beast in red and green. It was not what you would call your middle price range motel, but I was tired and it should do. The overweight Italian looking man behind the counter nodded when I asked if they had a room, but then added, ‘Only the bridal suite, mate.’ I thought that this was an example of one of those dead pan Queensland jokes, but he was serious and I replied that I would take a look at it. I went to the door and called to Darlene to come and check the room out. She got out of the car with a scowl, but what was she expecting, The Mirage? I wasn’t made of money and I had to keep up the payments on my SAAB.
We ascended bare concrete stairs and went along a veranda with iron pipe railings. The owner manager stopped outside a plywood door, inserted a key and pushed it open with a flourish. It might have been his pride of room, but it was worse than I ever thought a passion pit could be. Bridal suite did imply some sort of luxury to go with the sensuality which that night usually brought out. I should know for I have been married twice, once with passion and once without. This room was such as a prostitute, and a cheap one at that, who would bring her equally bottom level customers who when their wives walked out on them employed her to relive marital fantasies of the most plebeian kind. To differentiate this room from others, there was red velvet about the tops of the windows and a red velvet cover on the double bed. That was all there. I hadn’t expected a free bottle of champagne, but something a little above this. I looked at the man and he said ‘This is fifty dollars, ten dollars more than our other rooms.’ I nodded at this and looked at Darlene, expecting her to protest.
But this time as at other times, she surprised me. ‘Let’s take it,’ she said. ‘It’s late and it is the bridal suite.’
And so we booked into that motel and brought up our overnight bags. Darlene went into the bathroom to freshen up and I waited for her. When she came out fully dressed, I had a shower and put on my clothes again. One never knew what to do on first nighters, though then I had had only two and neither in such a room. At least the double bed looked comfortable and sturdy enough for athletic displays of love making.
I shoved any misgivings away, deciding that tackiness was awfully quaint and something which was new in my life. I came out of the bathroom smiling and said: ‘So you’re the blushing bride and this is our honeymoon.’
‘I would pick a better place than this,’ she answered tartly, as if it was my fault.
‘But we are together,’ I murmured.
‘Yes, and look at those curtains. That velvet,’ and suddenly she giggled and it was all right. ‘We’re in the bridal suite and this is our first night together,’ she said in a soft voice, which I later found out was the one she adopted for romance or wheedling something out of me, and then she was in my arms. She even went so far as to kiss me first and poke her tongue into my mouth. It lay there like a piece of liver. There was inertia about that piece of meat in my mouth which I found disconcerting. There should have been some activity. Elaine would have been moving that tongue around and touching my back teeth and then sucking my own tongue back into her mouth. Darlene didn’t do any of this and so I thrust my tongue out and into her mouth, but it too seemed to have lost its versatility. I withdraw it back into its rightful place.
The student didn’t find any of this disconcerting or amateurish, but merely, this is in hindsight, she was performing what she thought was done during foreplay and as for deep kissing, well, that was all there was to it. I, the man took the initiative and she went along with it. At least she was in my arms and murmuring again, as if it meant something and obviously it did to her, ‘The bridal suite.’ I leaned back in her arms and laughed. ‘What’s wrong,’ she demanded angrily. ‘Well, there’s bridal suites and there’s this,’ I replied, facetiously. ‘Well, when we get married, this won’t be it,’ she snapped.
Her remark made me nervous about the whole thing and to get my mind away from what she had just said, I remembered that I loved my wife and this female was merely an illicit fling, though weirdly I was becoming quite entranced by her in a perverted way. It was that I always expected the stars to fall when I engaged in sex with her, and though they never did, the promise remained. There was always the next time or the one after that and so I hung in waiting for the earth to move. It never did and eventually only hatred and contempt came to me from her. But that was a few years in the future and now on this first time, I was as eager to have her as she seemed to want me.
I started to undo her pants, but she stepped away and took them off herself. It was then that I noticed that her leopard skin top was a camisole and went down between her legs. I hadn’t seen one of these before except in ads and thought that only prostitutes wore them, along with high stockings and garter straps. But no, there was Darlene in one of these garments and striking a pose as if it was sexy. Well, I suppose it was in a way with her long body, except for the middle, bare and long white legs with slightly mottled pink thighs from the shower. I stepped forward and felt beneath her legs and popped the studs, one, two and my fingers sank into her cunt. It was firm and wet. She obviously was aroused, but again, the comparison came. Elaine’s vagina was a lush garden compared to this slightly thin, slightly retarded pudendum.
We kissed again and I had her on the bed, on her back and I was between her legs, ready to engage in oral foreplay. The lips of her cunt were indeed thin and slightly misshapen with a swirl of pink at the centre. I knelt between her legs and put my tongue into her, found her small clitoris and tongued it. She moaned, but did not move. I pushed her legs further apart and stuck my tongue as far as it could go into her, but she wriggled and got me back to her clitoris. While I tongued it my mind again returned to Elaine and how by now she would be moaning